A New Beginning
by Wanderer of Dreams
Summary: The Hut. And... a surprise. A/J.
1. The Beginning of Things

_This story is set one year after Lioness Rampant, the fourth book of the Song of the Lioness Quartet. This is the result of an intense edit of the first version that had been in place of this one over a year ago. If you would like to read the original copy, please send me a message or ask me on your reviews._

_**Disclaimer:**__ All characters, unless otherwise mentioned, are under the ownership of Tamora Pierce._

_**A/N:**__ This is an A/J fanfic. Don't let this chapter confuse you.

* * *

_

**Chapter1: The Beginning of Things**

"Thayet."

She pushed herself upright, one hand over her swollen belly, the other steadying her weight. This was the day her baby would arrive, if the palace mages were correct. She would have to spend the whole day in the infirmary- something she did not look forward to.

"I know. Help me down, will you?"

A strong hand came to rest at her back, another arm sliding under her legs. Thayet's husband heaved, lifting his wife into the air.

"Even better, I'll _carry_ you out," he said, as the beauty in his arm kicked her legs, complaining. He kissed her forehead, grinning.

"I love it when you whine."

He strode down the hallway with her in his arms (still in her nightgown), grinning at those who bowed as they passed, their eyes as wide as saucers.

"I'll never be able to show my face again," whimpered Thayet, burying her face in his chest.

"But that's a good thing," explained Jonathan, nuzzling her ear.

"It means you can spend more time with _me_."

* * *

"Baird, this is boring." 

That was the Queen, finally stating the obvious after two hours of staring at the white ceiling.

"I know. Everyone only ever talks about the pain of childbearing, but they never tell you of the _waiting_ before the convulsions," Duke Baird sympathised.

Thayet grinned.

"And you have such a _vast_ experience, I suppose."

"Of course I do," he said, raising his brows. Almost immediately, his face flushed.

"It's unholy to tease an old man, Majesty."

"But you're not an old man," complained Thayet.

Baird smiled. This was the first time he had directly dealt with the Queen, and he was pleased to know that she had a working sense of humour.

"Hush," he scolded gently. He handed her a book on the care of babies, who obediently began to read.

* * *

_Pirate's Swoop Castle, Tortall._

It had been a hard day. Pirate's Swoop was a small fief, and _everyone_ helped to feed its inhabitants. Today had been the first day of weeding, a nod at the season. Weeds, Alanna decided, were the plants of the Trickster himself. She slumped against her leather armchair. If all went well, she would spend the night reading, then to bed.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called. A panting messenger slumped in. Without a word he handed a letter sealed in royal blue.

Praying that this wouldn't be another summons to the palace (the King had recently delighted in summoning her every few weeks), she cracked the seal. Scanning the page, a frown creased her brows as she caught the phrase 'the funeral'. Worried, she rang the bell for a maid to take charge of the messenger, and sat down to read.

_Dear King's Champion,_

_Queen Thayet's baby is born. The baby is a healthy girl, but the Queen has passed away during the process. The funeral will be on next week Thursday. Heralds have been-_

Alanna closed her eyes as her vision went dark.

This couldn't be happening.

* * *

_Sorry to all the T/J lovers out there, but I adore A/J and will not let anything get in the way… not even Thayet._

_Now that you've read it, how about clicking that little button down there? Hmm?_

-Vonnie-


	2. At the Palace

_**Disclaimer:** I am not Tamora Pierce._

_**A/N:** Thanks to_ Pink Squishy Llama impossible-dreams Lady of Trebond charlie and lolatortallanrider_, and _Saphron _for reviewing. You people really made my day! _

_I think this chapter is slightly longer. It will be emotional. Don't say I didn't warn you!_

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**Chapter2: At the Palace**

Many nobles in black and lavender attended the funeral of Queen Thayet. King Jonathan didn't say anything. There was absolute silence as the granite doors of the catacombs thunked into place.

* * *

When Alanna found Jonathan in his study, she nearly gasped. His eyes were hollow and his handsome face was sallow. His mourning robes hung loosely on his thin frame. 

"Jon, what happened to you?" She said in a strangled voice.

He turned his head to look at his Champion from the window.

"Please sit down," he said, his voice slightly cracked.

Alanna immediately obeyed, her eyes still round with shock.

Jonathan licked his cracked lips and began.

"King's Champion, the Queen is -he closed his eyes to get rid of unwanted tears, and opened them again- is dead, and there is a new Princess to look after. The new reign is only a year old and already mournful occasions occur. The people may rise. What do you suggest I do?"

Alanna felt a surge of sympathy for the King. There he was, a king of twenty-four, Voice of the Tribes of the Bazhir, and also the wielder of the Dominion Jewel. And his beloved Queen was dead. He was a bearer of burdens she herself would refuse at any cost. Alanna smiled sadly. She wouldn't suggest her best friend to consult the Prime Minister. The least she could do right now was to give the best advice she could possibly give.

"King Jonathan, the first thing you should do is to find someone to look after the Princess. Her safety is your first priority, next to the safety of the kingdom. Then you should inform my lord the Provost of the possible uprising. If the people do rise, it is most likely be a minor one. But it is better safe than sorry. And Tortall must have another Queen before other countries get ideas."

The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it bitterly. This was _not _the time to remind the king of his loss, let alone tell him to replace Thayet. But when she looked up, she saw that Jonathan's eyes were of sadness, not of anger.

"Yes, there is that, but I would prefer not to think of it now," he whispered.

The air was getting tenser. In a moment she wouldn't be able to breath. Alanna rose and bowed.

"If that is all, your Majesty."

"Yes. You may retire for the day, Champion."

Alanna didn't know how she got to her bedroom, but when she did, she collapsed onto her bed and gave way to a storm of tears. Her life was changing. Everyone's life was changing. And it was for the worse.

Above the watery mortal, the Great Mother smiled. _You mature day by day, my daughter. You have gone through changes, and turning points in your life. But there is more to come. Things you never thought possible will happen. And you will survive, Daughter. You will remain the Champion._

* * *

_Yes, things are starting to warm up. I can't wait to get on the real thing, with its share of tears and fury and wind, heat, romance and blood!_

_I almost forgot to mention, Review? Pweeeeese? (Or else! Grin)_

_-Vonnie-_


	3. George

_Thanks to **Pink Squishy Llama, Secret Thought, tortallanrider, impossible-dreams** and **The Italian** **Poet** for reviewing. You people make my story happen!_

_**Disclaimer**: If I were Tamora Pierce, I wouldn't be typing up my things on a family computer in the living room. I would have a study and an Apple computer, plus two laptops for convenience. _

_**Note:** Words in **Bold/Italic** are Alanna's thoughts._

_**A/N:** Finally we can have some action, and a bit of humor! Enjoy! (Oh, and I'm really sorry for this short chapter, but it takes ages for me to write a long one.)_

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**Chapter 3: George**

Quiet, solemn days went by. The king forbade parties of any kind inside the Palace of Tortall. The closest thing to a celebration the Court got that month was the naming of the Princess. The King named her Willow, after the tree of long endurance and flexibility. Princess Willow was a living resemblance of Queen Thayet, and loved by the King for just that reason. He let no one touch her except the nursemaid.

* * *

Four weeks after the Queen's passing, George and Alanna went riding into the Royal Forest to get a breather from the gloomy air of the Palace. 

They rode in comfortable silence for a while. It was George who broke it.

"So, Alanna, do you have any plans for the next few months?"

Alanna shrugged.

"I think I'll stay at the palace and make sure Jon eat his vegetables. _Men,_" she rolled her eyes,

"They _never_ take care of themselves!"

"Poor Jonathan," George sympathized.

"Mothered by Fussy Alanna- ow! What was that for?"

Alanna stuck her tongue out at him.

"For your impertinence."

* * *

They stopped under a huge oak tree to rest. Alanna uncorked her bottle, and tipped it to her mouth. Nothing came. She swore and peeked inside. A large drop of liquid plopped itself into her eye. This time Alanna said something that made George blush and laugh at the same time. 

"I'm going to look for water. If I haven't turned completely into a rock-headed simpleton, there should be a creek here somewhere."

"Go ahead, lass. I'll be fine," he joked as Alanna raised a questioning brow.

"I'm not pretty enough for the bandits to kidnap me."

* * *

Alanna had just sighted a stream when she heard the distant sound of a yell followed by a thundering crash. Alanna spun, dropped her bottle and ran. 

She was panting when she arrived at the oak tree where the sound was coming from. She immediately spotted George surrounded by men clad in black all over. One was down with a dagger in his chest. Alanna screamed her fury and charged. She realized that she hadn't a scrap of metal on her just as one of the men turned, and locked his eyes onto Alanna's purple ones. _**Is this punishment for going unprepared?** _She didn't have time to think. She had to act _now_, while she had the chance. Alanna called to her Gift. When a bright ball of vibrant purple magic appeared in her palm, she hurled it into the swarm of black bodies. A great explosion knocked her out flat.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, the sky was getting dark. Alanna lay in total silence for a moment, wondering what she was doing, lying on the forest floor in the Royal Forest. The aroma of burnt meat brought back her memories in a rush. She gasped, and sat up at lightning speed. What happened to George? She searched through the heap of body, looking at the swelled faces intently. She was sure he was hiding under the corpses, ready to pounce on her. 

He had to be.

* * *

Alanna the Lioness found her husband buried under three men. 

"George!" She said, tears of joy flowing down her pallid cheek. Then she realized that he smelled like any other body under the tree.

"No."

She dropped him and cried for him. She cried for him as she had cried for Thayet.

* * *

_And that is the end of _**Chapter 3: George**. _Poor Alanna. Deaths of two friends in one month._

_Oh, and people, I won't be able to update for a week or so, because I'm going on a holiday with my friends and family tomorrow. But I'll be writing it down on paper (if I get the time) and then I'll update as soon as I get back._

_Now, REVIEW!_

_-Vonnie-_


	4. At the Graveyard

_**Disclaimer:** In a droning voice I do not own any characters by Tamora Pierce._

_**A/N:** I'm finally BACK from the holiday! Now I can update my stories! Thanks to the people who reviewed. You people rock!_

_**Note:** I know this chappie is VERY short, but I decided to cheer up Alanna before I get into the REAL thing starting from the next chapter. So, whether it's short or long, ENJOY!_

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**Chapter4: At the Graveyard**

For the next three weeks Alanna locked herself in her rooms and cried endlessly.

* * *

One night Jonathan spied her at George's grave. He hesitated. A voice screamed _Go on, you idiot! What are you waiting for! You were waiting for this opportunity, right? _Another, slightly politer voice reasoned _But you're intending to COMFORT her, not cause her MORE PAIN! She'll think you getting the better of her! Then go about it SUBTLY, you dolt! _The aggressive voice rebuked. _If you approach in the RIGHT way then she will be COMFORTED, and your long-awaited expression of feelings will be out! _The other voice grumbled _If she doesn't bury me next to George for being so bold, that is. _

Jonathan ignored the last comment and strode forward bravely, his head feeling less brave.

"Alanna."

The Champion whipped around, a drawn sword in hand that gleamed in the pale moonlight almost as much as the unfathomable violet eyes did.

She instantly dropped her weapon and knelt in the dirt.

"My liege."

"You are as sharp as ever, my Champion, despite the… saddening occurrences recently."

When she remained silent, he sighed.

"Look, Alanna. I know it's been hard for you these past few months, but we must move on. Time doesn't wait for grieving mortals."

He smiled ruefully, sapphire eyes sad.

"George meant as much to me as he was to you. He was my right hand man, a trusted advisor, friend. He knew and understood my emotions. So you understand that the news of his death came to me as a shock as much -even more- than Thayet's passing did. But we must get up, and start again. Right now we could be encouraging conspirators without knowing. And besides, George wouldn't want you to spend all your life wearing black and crying everyday and all night. He would want you to put away the mourning clothes and start again."

Alanna grinned.

Jonathan became wide-eyed. Whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. _Maybe George's death muddled her brain a bit. It DID seem a bit serious._

She replied teasingly,

"And yes, I suppose I should have remembered that before _you_ did, being Champion."

Jonathan laughed, leaned in and her warmly on the forehead, and flushed crimson.

"I… I'm sorry. I-"

"It's fine," she cut him off, amusement in her eyes. "You _are_ my best friend, after all."

"I know, Lioness."

"I wish you'd stop calling me that," she protested. "It sounds too much like you respect me or something," she chocked out, and hollered with laughter.

Jonathan roared and grabbed Alanna, who dodged, jumped, made faces and led a maddening chase that lasted all night.

* * *

_Alanna has recovered. Are you happy? Or disgusted? REVIEW!_

-Vonnie-


	5. Jonathan's Secret

_**Disclaimer:** I am not the fantasy goddess Tamora Pierce. She lives in New York. I live in New Zealand. _

_**A/N:** Yes, people, a LONGER chapter! Enjoy! (And people, am I allowed to do a songfic? Like a chapter with a song in between bits? If you know, please PM me. :) Thanks!)_

_Thanks to **impossible-dreams**, **Pink Squishy Llama**, **tortallanrider**, **Alex Rose**, **red rose of love**, and **NealsChick**. You people kept me going!_

_**Note:** Words in **Bold/Italics** are Alanna's and Jon's thoughts. _

* * *

**Chapter5: Jonathan's Secret**

Things began to look brighter at the Royal Palace from the Wild Chase, as Alanna and Jonathan had officially declared. The King paid attention at the Council Conferences; the Champion was back onto the practice courts again, working herself up to her full potential just as she used to. Myles stopped drinking, footmen whistled at work, and maids sang as they pulled down the black draperies and blinds.

* * *

Few days after Jonathan and Alanna began to wear bright colours again, Alanna was summoned to Jonathan's study.

The young Champion couldn't help but wonder what the King was cooking up. She had spied him talking to himself about something he found immensely amusing, something about 'royals and nobles', and 'hard tests'. She had imagined that he was reminding himself of important document contents, but when she caught him grinning about his 'royals and nobles', and 'hard tests' at dinner for the seventeenth time, she had demanded to spill the beans. After two mortal days of nagging, begging, whining, and finally by blackmailing, Jonathan of Conte had finally relented, and promised to call her after supper this very day.

She knocked and stuck her head inside.

"I'm coming in," she warned.

"Sit."

She obediently plopped onto a chair next to Jonathan at the desk, and he began talking.

"Willow needs someone to look after her. Not a nursemaid, but a proper mother. So I've been planning." He grinned, sapphire eyes taking an impish quality.

A hand squeezed painfully at Alanna's heart. _**What the…?** _She scowled inside, and kicked the hand away.

"Uh oh," she teased, her face showing no trace of her confusion.

Alanna's old-time-friend cuffed her lightly on her shoulder and continued.

"I have decided to open a contest for the choosing of a new Queen of Tortall."

Alanna's jaw dropped.

Her mood turned 180 degrees in the time it took the Champion to draw her sword in a graveyard.

"So soon?" She whispered, "I thought you loved Thayet!"

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan asked, both brows raised in an expression of shock.

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Jonathan of Conte," she poked him accusingly on his chest, "more than anyone in the world."

"Know what?" The forehead of the King of Tortall creased, lines of which on a less breathtaking man might have been labeled a frown.

"You… you know." She waved her hand enthusiastically/frantically in the air, trying to make sense of something, and failing to do so.

"Just… Thayet… You… Not even three months gone… Oh, _never mind!_" She yelled, and burst out of the room, slamming the door in her wake.

* * *

Jonathan stared up at the ceiling. What had he done? Why had Alanna yelled at him? Why was she being so difficult? When did he say anything wrong about Thayet? Where had he seen Alanna as flustered as this? Who had put an ant in her loincloth? **_Stop it,_** he commanded. **_You're making yourself go all slobbery-brained. The next thing you'll know, you'll be singing the Fishermen's Wives, and Alanna will come running in, and bite your head off before you can say 'how dare you'. _**He sighed gustily and turned onto his side, closing his eyes. If Alanna was angry, she was angry. Not even the Great Gods could do anything about it. So in the meanwhile, he might as well get some sleep. Jonathan IV of Conte, the King of Tortall sighed once again, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Alanna dragged herself to her room, and punched her pillow. Why was it that every time she went into that… that _study _of his, she came out half-mad? Maybe it was cur- wait a minute. What did she yell at him for? What did she say? Why was she here? Why was she punching her pillow? **_Gods, what have I done? I _yelled _at him! I yelled at my best friend! Curse you, Alanna! Now he's going to blame it all on himself and mourn for Thayet all over again! _**She muttered a string of extremely rude words in seven different languages. **_Great. Now I'll have to go apologize, and I'm already in my nightgown. _**She snatched up a dressing gown, slipped it on, and walked out of her door.

* * *

She knocked softly, three times on his door. She grumbled when he didn't answer, thinking he was sulking miserably. She knocked again.

Knock knock knock.

Knock.

Knock.

_Knock!_

BANG!

She barged in growling, ready to kick him in the ass for not answering the door fast enough. But when she stomped to his bed, expecting a surly look, she realized that he wasn't. Instead, he was fast asleep, snoring lightly.

Alanna let out an exasperated sigh. Trust Jon to be uncooperative.

"Sorry," she whispered softly into his ear, and left, closing the door gently.

* * *

Jonathan opened his eyes. He could have sworn on his honour that Alanna had barged into his room without knocking, and then suddenly apologized. **_Can I be dreaming? The Lioness _apologizing** **_She must be sick. I kept telling her, get some rest. And now it's come to… this. _**He heaved himself off his bed, threw on a dressing robe of his favourite royal blue, and walked out of his bedroom door, the door that only two minutes ago had been banged on by a very impatient King's Champion.

* * *

If anyone had been passing the window of the Tortallan Champion's sitting room on a sleepy night, they would have been present for a most spectacular scene. The faint moonlight showed two figures in dressing robes, their faces reflected/dyed in many colours by the fire in the hearth. Both held close a mug, fingering the handles as they were seemly occupied with thoughts. It was the woman with exceptionally tousled hair that broke the stifling silence.

"I'm sorry for what happened in your study."

The man that looked as bedraggled as she did started, as if he were woken from a deep trance.

"What-? Oh. It's alright."

There was another stretch of awkward silence.

"You know, life would be much easier if a King of Tortall would actually get to the point, not tiptoeing around it as if it was a sleeping kraken."

"Yes, well… Alanna, do you still want to listen to my –plan- ?"

The King's Champion restrained herself from sipping her hot cider, and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you expect?"

Jonathan sighed, and continued.

"Well, as I was saying, I plan to host a contest for the choosing of a new Queen."

Then he shrugged.

"Though if you disagree, I don't know how I'll continue my plans. It would be hard to work with a scowling Champion hovering over me."

"Alright, I'm _sorry._ I'm _sorry _I yelled at you, I'm _sorry _I accused you of not loving Thayet, I'm _sorry _for being so egocentric. I should've listened to you to the end before I acted. I know you need a new Queen, to look after Willow and to rule alongside you, but I took it the wrong way. I thought you were trying to replace Thayet. And now that you told me your secret, I guess I'm in for paperwork planning."

"Yes. Think of that and tremble. You are now in the hands of the Mighty King."

He laughed, very much the young Prince Jonathan Alanna had known. She grinned.

"You sound ridiculous," she teased.

"As if you were trying to impress some Carthaki Princess."

Jonathan glared.

"You know I'm not."

"Then who? Me?"

"No."

"Who?"

"No-one."

"_Who?_"

"Myself."

"No. Me. I insist."

"Annoying little brat." Jonathan muttered under his breath.

"Sire? What did you just call me?"

"Nothing. Anyway, I'll show you the documents at breakfast."

"Fine. But wouldn't Gary notice?"

Jonathan had invited Alanna, Gary and Raoul over to breakfast, where they would talk about the 'good-old-days' before Roger of Conte had started to breed problems.

"He won't. I'll make sure of that."

Then he drew nearer, eyes intent on her face.

"Don't let this slip out. I'm counting on you."

He kissed her briefly and fled down the corridor, without closing the door.

And Alanna just sat and stared, completely speechless.

* * *

"… Alan beat- no. _Alanna_ beat him until he was pulped, remember?"

Alanna smiled absently at Gary, her mind clearly somewhere else.

About last night.

She clenched her teeth and ordered her traitor mind to think about other things.

Things were confusing enough. She didn't need another complication. She didn't want to betray George. He would be heartbroken if she did.

She was woken from her thoughts by a poke on her left thigh.

She kicked it.

It felt scrunchy.

She was about to crush the thing when she met Jonathan's eyes. He poked his chin at the table.

Alanna grabbed it, and found that it was a sheet of parchment. She nodded.

And all through breakfast Alanna's mind drifted to a certain blue-eyed king.

* * *

_**A/N:** Ta da! Longer chappie! Now we can get into the real thing!_

_And as always…_

_REVIEW full stop._

-Vonnie-


	6. Planning and New Arrivals

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own any plot, or characters by Tamora Pierce._

_**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I love you all!_

**Dedication:** To all my reviewers, especially Miki and Erin, who reviewed every single chappie! oxox

* * *

**Chapter6: Planning and New Arrivals**

_What: Contest to choose the next Queen of Tortall_

_Who: Royals and nobles of the Eastern and Southern Lands_

_When: 19th to 31st of August, 439 H.E._

_Where: The Palace of Tortall_

_Requirements: None. All will be provided for once contestants reach the Palace._

_Judge: Jonathan of Conte_

_Co-Judge: Alanna of Trebond, Pirate's Swoop and Olau_

"Our ladies will be pushed hard," the King grinned.

His Champion grinned back.

"You mean the ladies will find you tougher to crack than they thought."

Jonathan scowled in an act of mock-offense, and retorted,

"What I _meant _was that our contestants are in for a big surprise."

* * *

A flash of sunlight on metal blinded an onlooker. He turned, wiping streaming eyes on sleeve, and turned to face the yards of brown dirt again. Spotting the wielder of the sunlight, he grinned. 

"Coram!"

Alanna came running, and gave her old companion a fierce hug.

"How did you get here? Where's Rispah?"

Coram Smythesson patted her on her shoulder when she finally drew away.

"Rispah is here, and little Liam with her. They'll be here for a while. We haven't seen you and Jonathan in a year!"

Rispah and Coram had been married for a full year now, and they had a boy named Liam after the Shang Dragon. They had moved into Barony Olau straight after their marriage a month after the Battle of the Coronation, when the debris of a major treason had finally cleared. This was the first time in a year that Alanna and Coram had seen each other.

"It's always good to see you. Lets go find Rispah!"

Coram led his former knight-mistress to the guest wing of the palace, waving greetings to soldiers and Guards he had made friends with.

She found Rispah in her sitting room, playing with little Liam.

"Rispah, how are you?"

Mistress Smythesson turned, and gave her sister-in-law a huge grin.

"I would hug you, but as you can see, our little Liam would object to that."

Alanna stared at the artifact of humankind, amazed. She had never been close to a child as young as this one, and Liam seemed to have more than enough energy to tire a very healthy Rispah.

"How do you manage him? He doesn't seem the kind of fellow who stays in his study reading."

Rispah and Coram laughed heartily, Alanna with them.

"Oh, he just isn't as hard on me as he would to others. Once we tried entrusting him to a maid for an hour while we did some work, and when we came back, the poor girl could barely wiggle a finger. She was laid on the chair, all limp, like."

"Hm. Sounds like a new challenge," Alanna mused, eyeing her nephew.

"On second thoughts- maybe not," she added, flinching as the eight-month old rogue braced himself on a not-so-impressed aunt's hindpaw.

* * *

Jonathan put his documents aside with a satisfied sigh. Things were going smoothly, and all that was left was to give out the invitations to each neighbouring country.

* * *

_**A/N:** I know this was a bit of a filler, but I'm getting ready for the big thing. _

_REVIEW exclamation mark._

-Vonnie-


	7. The Gold Diggers Arrive

_**A/N:** More for you! As usual, **Bold/Italics **for thoughts._

_**Disclaimer:** I am the Goddess of Literature herself, Tamora Pierce. All must bow down to me. NOT. I am not the Goddess of Literature, however I may wish. I know who I am. (The soon-to-be heir to Tamora Pierce, to carry on her work. Hehehe.)_

* * *

**Chapter7: The Gold Diggers Arrive**

Alanna was not in a good mood. Jonathan noticed this, and he edged away from his Champion as the confined area of the carriage allowed; **_good for him_**, Alanna thought crossly,**_ if he doesn't want to be dumped out the window_**.

Jonathan had ordered the Lioness to come with him in reception of the contestants at Port Caynn, where they will welcome the 'Gold Diggers', as the cranky knight had stamped them. There was tension in the air, and Alanna felt it too. She just didn't like it, all the excuse she needed to be crabby.

The carriage rolled to a stop, and the trumpeters moved to blast a fanfare. A footman opened the door, and Alanna, follwed by Jonathan, stepped out into the sea of bodies in skirts.

* * *

Whatever Jonathan had been expecting, what had greeted him in the Caynn Square was not it. Women in all sorts of colour, jewelry and scent had all gasped at the sight of him. Yes, he was good-looking, the vain King admitted, but he hadn't thought he was _that_ stunning, enough that he had to order men to carry out fainting ladies. As to the ones who didn't gasp or faint- well, **_they have the whole month to decide_**, the King thought. **_I'll make sure they adore me by then._**

* * *

"Goo goo gaa." 

The Royal Nursemaid smiled, and went back to work, folding a mountain of nappies.

She adored her little charge, a girl with black curls and fair skin, just like her mother. Willow was very princess-like, with all her manners and graceful smiles that most four-month-olds lacked. Sometimes she was very stubborn about things she liked, but that was to be expected. After all, she was the daughter of Thayet jian Wilima, legendary for her beauty and stubbornness.

Suddenly there was a choking sound, and the short cry of Princess Willow. Nursemaid Liora spun around, and her large eyes widened even more.

"Willow!"

* * *

Buriram Tourakom of the K'miri strolled across the courtyards, deeply in thought. Five minutes ago a still fuming King Jonathan IV of Conte had appointed her Royal Nursemaid, to replace the disgraced Lady Liora of Nond, charged of carelessness in looking after her Royal charge. She shook her head, much to the amusement of other passers-by. She'd _thought _Liora was always unaware of her surroundings. Now the brainless noblewoman was in the King's Black Book for life, and the former guard of the fourth and last Wilima was forced into her place. **_Finally something to do, after all those months of rest. _**

**_But _child-care? **She shuddered, envisioning a very fat, bossy princess dressed in bouncy pink dress and a pile of laundry, dishes and slimy chewed-up toys. Child-care was all very well, but the thought of being at it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and 365 days a year, until Jonathan found a new Queen- which he never might, considering whether he judged that _anyone_ would be fit to be his Queen and also his daughter's mother.

And so Jonathan is the Judge. And co-Judge is… Alanna. **_Why would she have agreed to this? She doesn't have the knowledge or the skills of being a lady, and she knows it._** **_Everyone knows the sky falls before the Lioness changes her mind. So what could have persuaded her? Interest in ladylike events? No. She went on for twenty-two years without ever as much a glance directed to Fan-Flutterers. She wouldn't change just like that in a few days. Duty to the Kingdom? Unlikely. If there ever was a knight to argue with his King, it's Alanna. Then what? _**

**_Concern? Respect? Awe? Affec- wait. _Affection? **The newly made Nursemaid turned a corner, and promptly crashed into a page. She apologized glumly, and grumbled about Red-and-Gold bodies with no eyes.

**_Alanna feeling affection for a sapphire-eyed Prince, or King, rather, is reasonable. She _had_ loved him, now, she had just loved George more. Now that George was dead, old feelings for Jonathan can be coming back. _**

Love.

That single word explained everything.

Buri smiled a smile that only plotters and mischief-makers smile, and quickened her pace, each step whispering of purpose.

That night, the Goddess's Lamp would come across two women in heated discussion, one brown-haired, and the other a buxom redhead.

* * *

…_Contestants reach the Palace._

_Judge: Jonathan of Conte_

_Co-Judge: Alanna of Trebond, Pirate's Swoop and Olau._

She scowled, scrunched up the piece of parchment, and hurled it out her window, much to the joy of the passing man-at-arms, who yelled indignantly and attempted to throw the abused Invitation back to its gracious sender.

Alanna sank into the armchair by her hearth, and a noise vaguely like a tired sigh protruded from her lips.

_**::Alanna's Flashback::**_

"_You probably know more about ladies than I do!" She yelled._

_She noted with glee the flush crawling up the King's cheeks._

"_And like I said, you are bound to me through duty. _I _am the King, and you are my vessel. You will do as I say." _

"_But you can't just _force _me to do something!" _

_She wanted to slap him for being smug and blue-eyed._

"_I can, and I do. This is easier to do than bringing home a stone that I didn't even ask of. Being-"_

_**How dare he talk of my life-risking venture that way!**_

"_That _stone _as you claim, is what I risked my life for Tortall!"_

**_He can't say anything to _that_. If he does, he'll be known as the King-Who-Hates-His-Country throughout the Lands. I always knew I was too smart for him._**

"_I acknowledge your adventure for the Dominion Jewel. My point is by your becoming co-Judge, you will be doing a great service to the Realm by contributing to the choosing of the Queen. 'A knight who contributes to his realm is an honour to his country'."_

**Why does he have to quote from the Code of Chivalry? Curse your diplomacy and its skill of changing tactics. I hope a Gallan stick girl kidnaps you! **

"_And I could always relieve you of your post as King's Champion, if you cannot accept the duties that follow it. Sacherell seems keen."_

_She could not take it any longer. Just barely keeping her temper in control, she whispered coldly,_

"_As you wish, Your Majesty. I am yours to command."_

_And she walked calmly out the door, waiting until the door was safely closed before she made a rude gesture directed to the man inside._

_**::End of Flashback::**_

Alanna moaned and put her head into her hands.

How was she to manage this? She'd never judged anything before, except a few groups of training pages and squires! She would be a disgrace. She will get everything wrong, and Jonathan will be mad at her because she messed things up, not stopping to think that it was _he _who had forced her into that position. **_Idiot, _**she thought. **_I should have stopped this before it got here. I should have thought of the consequences. But what good will worrying do me now? Jon won't change his mind, no matter what I tell him, –where had he learn to be so stubborn?- and there is nothing to do. _**Suddenly she sat up bolt upright, sticking her chin stubbornly in the air, and her violet eyes glittered dangerously. **_But I will not give up. I won't give up until I get my revenge. And then- _**she grinned fiercely, showing all of her pearl-white teeth –**_And then he'll see who's in charge. I'll teach him a lesson of a lifetime. _**

Little did she know that she was the subject of a very heated discussion, right at that moment.

* * *

"My dear ladies," began the King in a regal tone. 

He paused for a moment, waiting for the wistful sighs to die down.

"I hope you all had a good night's sleep, because today is the day the competition starts. I assume that you have been informed of the rules and regulations of the Palace and of the competition. In ten minutes from now you will begin a month-long journey to becoming the twenty-seventh Queen of Tortall. Only one will be chosen, and she will be everything a Queen needs to be. The quality of…"

The ladies hang on to every single word that Jonathan said- **_stupid of them_**, Alanna thought grumpily as she watched the roomful of eye-batterers through her heavy eyelids. She looked worse for the wear; it seemed that she had a long, sleepless night. She huffed indignantly. Had she not been on a Royal Command, wild bulls wouldn't have dragged her to watch Jonathan's every word promptly punctuated by tidal waves of brazen sighs. She grunted unhappily. **_I simply cannot trust myself anymore. I have turned into an absolute idiot. Otherwise how could I have come up with no plan whatsoever for my revenge? _**This was simply too embarrassing to think about, even if only to herself.

"Majesty," she growled to him in on of his windy pauses, drawing close so only he could hear.

"_What_," he whispered, eyes never leaving his sighing admirers.

"I demand permission to exit from your Royal Presence. I am unwell."

The young King glanced at her sharply.

"You certainly look disheveled," he demurred, examining her from top to toe.

"Right. You may retire for the morning. But I will need you in the afternoon." He gestured graciously to include the crowd before him. Alanna scowled; she did _not _need anymore reminders.

She stepped out into the marble corridor, thinking. She was only free for the morning; she would have to return in the afternoon. She needed a plan, and fast.

Silent shadows pounced on the brooding figure; before she could shout for help, Alanna the Lioness, King's Champion of Tortall was plunged into total darkness.

* * *

_Well. Here it is! Sorry for the delay. For full grubby excuses visit my profile. It's all there plus other updates, sneak peeks etc. Review._

_-Vonnie-_


	8. Transformation

_**A/N:** The eighth chapter of my feeble attempts at Great Writing. _

_Read. _

**_Dedication:_** _To all my reviewers! (Who wait patiently for updates!) Blows Kisses Throws chocolates into the air for all to catch_

* * *

**Chapter8: The Competition (and the Rivalry, Jealousy and Evilness) Begins**

****

"We have to talk."

But Alanna was not listening.

"_What _on earth was that _for_?" she yelled. Buri put a warning finger to her lips. Unaware, Alanna continued to yell the roof of the room off.

"I don't need to be dragged in to talk to you!" "I would have come nicely if you only _asked. _Then there would have been no need for all this fuss!"

"Calm down, Alanna. We just want to talk to you."

Rispah pulled her long-time friend down into the chair.

Alanna closed her eyes, took several deep breaths and opened them again.

"It had better be important."

"It is, and you're bound to like it. Now listen. I believe that you never wished to be co-judge?"

"That's right."

"And His Majesty forced you into it?"

"That's correct."

"And that you wish to revenge?"

A nod.

"Then you must listen to us. We will help you pay back the ungrateful king who forced you into a position you did not wish."

Rispah nodded to Buri, who then took over the talking.

"First, you must-"

The rest of the sentence was whispered into the wide-eyed knight's ear.

"And then-"

Rispah edged over.

"Then you will get to-"

Buri nodded in approval.

"That's right. Then you can-"

"If it succeeds, you'll have-"

Alanna eyed them, weighing them if their suggestions were worth the risk.

"You really think it'll work? This place is ridden with mages, not to mention he's one himself."

A look of pity entered Rispah's eyes.

"My cautious dear, you think that Buri and I have not thought of that? I have suggested to his Majesty that I wish a birthday surprise for his little godson, my Liam. He hinted that he would make a grand present made by all the Palace mages he could spare. And His Majesty himself will be too busy about the blighted contest."

"Right, then. So we might as well start right now."

* * *

A woman reclined on her low couch, idly inspecting a carefully manicured fingernail. Two girls waved a lacy gold feather fan above her, while a shaved slave boy gently bathed her two feet in a silver bowel of myrrh and white rose petals.

Today was certainly most eventful, with the test subject handed out. She tapped her fingers on the ivory arm of the couch, transparent clicking sounds reverberating in the large marble-walled room. From what she had seen this morning, very few ladies were cool-headed. Very few were sensible, which meant that there were that much less to match her. She smiled in an attractive flutter of long dark lashes.

She would make sure nothing stopped her from taking the throne next to the King.

Her family needed it.

"My lady,"

She half-turned to see a pair of arms and legs in red and gold.

"My lady, His Majesty wishes to see you privately in his chambers."

The woman hid a hyena's smile behind her fan.

So her prey was making a trap for himself. Ah well, that would mean less work for her. She nodded graciously to the messenger boy, and stood up to follow him.

"This way, milady."

The two silent shadows slinked noiselessly by the walls. The taller figure was starting to feel that the walk was taking much too long when they glimpsed a flickering lamplight in the distance. They glided towards it. Soon they were inside the room. But when the lady turned, she saw two maidservants instead of the blue eyes of the King. She lifted her chin.

"I-" she started to say, but the women shook her head.

She stopped. She took a deep breath to argue, and then thought the better of it.

It was the dark-skinned servant girl looking to be about seventeen who broke the silence.

"My lady of Riggand's Crescent, we will be asking for your assistance before you are presented to His Majesty."

Lady Cornelise knew what she meant. She would co-operate to these suspicious fools, but she would also let nothing slip.

"I am at your service," she countered as expected, with a gracious bow of the head.

The two women nodded to each other.

"My lady. Is it true that you are the sole living daughter of the Duke Brondeim of Baskerville, a second cousin of the Emperor Ozorne of Carthak?"

"It is true."

"Is it true that you are the heiress to Riggand's Cresent?"

"Aye, it is true."

"Is it true that you have been the mistress of the Emperor?"

Her eyes sharpened.

"This is getting much too personal."

The two women met the furious amber eyes steadily.

"It is true."

They continued for while, until the sun began to grow dim.

"This will do. We thank you for your co-operation. This way, please."

She followed them through a heavy oak door with polished brass plaque.

She was so deep in plans to wrap the King around her fingers that she didn't immediately see the two had turned.

"We apologise, my lady. You will be waken when the time is right."

Before she could scream, her nose met a sickening sweet smell, and she collapsed, eyes rolling up in a dead faint.

* * *

"_Must _I do this?" She whined as Buri pulled at her bodice laces.

"You must, if you want to revenge him. "

There was something suspiciously like a smile in Buri's voice, but when Alanna cricked her neck to get a glimpse, there was only the usual scowl on the younger woman's face.

"Rispah," she called at her for help, but the redhead was far to busy flitting around the late Lady Cornelise's dressing room, straightening this, dusting that.

She turned back.

"Ouch!"

She fixed her with a glare.

"That _hurt_. Don't pull so hard! At this rate, I'll be surprised if my waist doesn't turn into a pin!"

Alanna had been transformed into a dark-haired, long-waisted, tall lady, exactly as the former occupant of this quarter had been.

"Oh, be quiet and try these on."

Rispah handed her a pair of high-heeled glowing amber satin slippers.

Alanna blanched under her make-up.

"My ankles'll snap."

"Just try it on."

She gulped, and stepped inside them.

Nothing happened.

She sighed, and wobbled. Rispah and Buri caught her just in time.

"Now _walk_. You'll have to be able to dance a waltz in these in three hours."

"Like I needed a reminder," she grumbled as she took one perilous step after another, guided by Buri at her left elbow.

* * *

"Lady Cornelise of Riggand's Hill!"

Voices were hushed as every eye in the hall turned to stare at Alanna.

She glided down the steps noiselessly, her hand delicately placed on some drooling knight's arm who had been one of the many who had _very kindly _offered to escort her down the Great Stair.

_**Well, who said I wasn't a Chosen?**_

She thought ironically.

**_Descending the Great Stair _twice_ in a lifetime!_**

Then she felt a pang. Last time she had been in this position, Thayet had been with her, in a crimson dress of muslin and rubies. She caught herself nearly about to shake her head. She scolded herself. There were a time and a place to feel sentimental. Now wasn't then!

She realized that she was at the throne. She curtsied gracefully, giving credit to Rispah and Buri who had spent the last week hounding her for every waking minute and more.

"Welcome, Lady Cornelise. I wish you an enjoyable stay."

Jonathan gave her a flashing smile, full of Conte charm.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

**_He speaks as if I were on a holiday. _**She sneered inwardly. **_Oh well, I've never denied his diplomacy._**

She curtsied once more, joined the crowd, and watched as other Gold-Seekers were presented.

"I would like to propose a toast," yelled the Prime Minister above the din.

"His Majesty has opened a contest for all eligible ladies throughout the Eastern, Western and Southern Lands. May he be successful in his quest of a new Queen. To the Contest!"

"To the Contest!"

The crowd roared, every single man and woman.

All except one.

"To revenge!"

Muttered the Lady Cornelise.

And so began the Quest that will be sung until the Mortal Realms perished.

* * *

_**A/N:** Tada! Liked it, yes?_


	9. The Test

_**A/N:** Sorry for the late update. _

_I'm going up to Auckland (the biggest city in NZ) with my family early this week! Yay! _

_**Disclaimer:** Insert a standard disclaimer here._

* * *

**Chapter9: The Test **

"Majesty, yer guests have arrived."

"Thank you, Jhorom. Is Lady Alanna present?"

"No, Majesty. Had'na seen 'er since the Openin' Speech an' wotnot sommat eight days back."

"All right. Tell Gary, Raoul, Myles and Eleni I'm coming down in a minute."

"As ye say, Majesty."

The door closed behind the former-thief, and instantly the King's brows shot upwards.

_**This must be the longest time anyone's ever not showed up on my commands. And that's counting the time when Raoul refused to come to the Match Making Mothers' Association.**_

_**Eight days.**_

_**How much longer?**_

* * *

"Jon, I can't believe you're doing this! I thought we'd beat that out of you ages ago!" 

Laughing, Jonathan pushed his Knight Commander into his soup. As the splattering knight groped for a napkin, he joked,

"And if he grows any more prudent, I won't be surprised to find him being chased by nice, soft old mothers on some dark night!"

Everyone roared, and as the poor, tortured Raoul raised his beet-red face from his tasty goo to say something equally abnormal, he was shoved into the suffering soup again, and went quiet.

"Anyway, to more normal topics," Jonathan suggested.

"You people are aware that we have gathered to discuss the Contest? Well, I've run out of task ideas. So this is why you're here. Ideas?"

"What about the reciting of the Code of Chivalry?"

The King shook his head.

"Myles, that's the _knights' _code. Why should ladies learn it?"

"Well, you said you wanted the Queen to be highly educated in all areas. And knighthood is a big part of this realm. It'll help a lot to learn it."

A sigh.

"All right."

"Have you thought of measuring them in height, weight, width, shoe sizes and sleeping habits?"

"_Eleni_."

"What? It's perfectly sensible. And gods know _I _should have tested Myles for his sleeping habits before I made the mistake of accepting him. Life is miserable for women my age."

"Fine. More?"

"I think we should it on the basic history of Tortall. Every Queen should know what she is ruling."

"_That_ sounds sensible."

"You could test them on the skills of mothering," Raoul said, fully recovered from the previous mishap.

"Mithros knows Alanna will win if she competed."

_That _drew a gale of laughter out of the men. The Lioness was infamous for her fussing over a particular over-grown blue-eyed boy.

The King also laughed, but his laughter quite didn't reach up to his eyes.

What he _was _thinking was;

**_Where _is _she? _**

* * *

At that precise moment the lady in question was being examined by two sharp-eyed women. 

"I don't understand _why_ I have to go through all this," the image of Lady Cornelise grumbled.

"I just wanted revenge. Clear, _simple _revenge. But instead you have to go to all this fuss and make me dance with gooey-eyed buffle-brains. I'm warning you, I'm starting to regret my choice."

"Never you worry, my lady of Riggand's Crescent," said Rispah amiably, patting the frustrated woman on the back.

"You'll do well. Why, you're a born actress!"

The 'born actress' snorted, who knew as well as the others that the Graveyard Hag would start being honest before she became a lady.

The redhead smiled, and straightened to get the kink out of her back.

"Well, perhaps not a _born_ actress, but you'll pull through."

"And lets hope I don't lose anything in the process!"

"I'd think that's enough, Alanna. It's almost time to go."

The two walked her to the door, watching out for servants that the Lioness had dismissed much earlier, who still tended to linger around.

* * *

Eleni and Mistress Kuri Taylor were waiting amongst a flood of chattering females while a few more dignified women looked on at the sidelines with their attendants. Alanna, Rispah and Buri joined the precious few of level-headed ladies. 

"You'd think this is some party, the way they carry on," Alanna joked quietly to Buri to her left.

"Yes, I quite agree," sighed the lady on her right, to Alanna's surprise.

"Sighing at the King like some kind of wheezing flutes! At least some people have sense."

The other ladies chirruped their agreement.

**_Hm. _This_ particular lady seems to be the boss of this pack. How very interesting. Lets poke it up a little bit. _**

"Is my dear la-" (hereby instantly punctuated by a hard blow on her left ribcage)

She scowled at Buri.

"Wha-"

"It's _not _a 'dear lady', it's a 'fellow comrade'!" Hissed the K'miri into her ear.

"What do you expect? I've lived with the most eligible bachelor in the realm for eight years!" She hissed back.

"Fellow comrade, I am glad to have found another sharing my opinion!"

This was hard; the false smile plastered on her face seemed more unnatural than ever, and the other lady's eyes seemed to penetrate into her mind.

Shaking the odd sensation, she looked the new boss female over; a dark-haired beauty in a plain forest-green wool gown, dark eyes under long, curling lashes, prim nose, and a smiling mouth touched showing only the slightest hint of red.

The lady's eyes twinkled.

"I am Tinani of Opaquinn, in Tyra. I was pleased to find such a beautiful lady sharing out views."

Alanna smiled slightly. She was amused.

"I am Cornelise of Riggand's Hill, Carthak. Pleased to know you, Lady Tinani."

"The honour is mine," the other lady replied.

"Please, meet my friends."

"This is Lady Noella of Hignimper, in Scanra. She is one of my oldest and greatest friends."

This Lady made a sharp contrast to the shapely brunette. She was somewhat plump, a woman in her early 20s with withered blonde hair and a pale face. **_She doesn't seem like match to any other women here, by looks or by charm. _**

Then she saw something in the woman's eyes.

She sighed silently.

**_Well, _that _certainly changes the situation, _**she thought, mildly awed.

"This is one of my newer friends, Lady Linoshi noh Michika."

Lady Noella stepped aside, so Alanna could see the cat-faced, graceful Yamani.

She nodded, a feat that resulted her raven-black hair to spring from its pins. Scowling, she bent down to pick up the pins. When she straightened, she saw everyone staring at her. She smiled.

"My hair makes me lose my temper. I don't know why I even try pinning it up."

Alanna raised an impressed eyebrow. The lady did not seem to be in a temper at all. She looked to be in a mild case of –ahem- constipation. When s_he _threw a temper, it made a thunderstorm sound like a cat's meow.

"Yes, Lady Linoshi's hair drives her absolutely crazy, but she doesn't show it much," said Lady Noella, correctly interpreting the look on Alanna's face.

"The Yamani like to keep their emotions under control. To them, it's like not slurping your tea."

Footsteps interrupted their conversation.

The room had suddenly gone very quiet and everyone were bowing. After a hesitating moment, Alanna followed suit. When she had the nerve to peek up from under her impossibly long lashes, she found that Jonathan had entered the hall.

"My ladies, today is the day of your test. I hope you are all well rested."

He nodded to a man she had missed. The man bowed, and opened a small scroll to read out;

"On this day the 21st of August, on the year of 439 H.E., the Second Year of His Majesty King Jonathan IV of Tortall, I propose to you all persons in this room wishing to participate in the Tortallan Contest for a Queen to hear. The contest shalt be held one way. The persons shall be tested on-"

There was something buzzing in her ears. She shook her head to clear it, but it was no good. She groaned out in frustration. She stomped her feet. She bit her tongue. It all did no good.

So the next second she was on the floor, out cold.

* * *

The King paced his sittingroom, knocking over porcelain vases. His eyes blazed with impatience. When ladies had fainted on him at the Caynn Square, he had thought that it was solely because of his dazzling looks. Now he wasn't so sure. When he had heard news that Lady Cornelise of Riggand's Hill, famed for her close blood relations with the Carthaki emperor, and, more importantly, infamous for being the sole living female member of the Imperial Council. She was known to have both feet and hands planted firmly in the ground. So when he had heard that she had fainted, he felt sure that the gods did not approve of the Competition. He groaned. _Why_ the gods had to choose this event, he would never know. **_But I'll have to push on, I suppose. I have my pride. _**He sighed. **_I wish Alanna was here. She could have done something about this._**

* * *

_Splash. _

"What the-?"

"She's awake."

"I can see that!"

Blurred images appeared before her eyes, and then cleared.

Rispah and Buri, both clearly worried, came into her vision.

She opened her mouth, tried to speak again, only to find that her throat was caked with dust. Someone passed her a cup of water. She looked up, and found herself staring into a pair of sapphire-blue eyes.

She gulped.

What was _he_ doing here?

She turned to observe the room. There were Ladies Tinani, Noella, and Linoshi, as well as a healer, and a crowd of curious onlookers –curse them, _what_ did they find so interesting?- and the blue-eyed man. She inspected the cup offered to her, and drank it up. When she spoke, it came out as a croak.

"How long have I been asleep?"

A brief silence.

"Two minutes."

* * *

"Whoopee!" 

Laughing, Buriram Tourakom swung Willow into the air.

"Little princess, are you enjoying yourself?"

She was rewarded with a chiming laugh.

"You certainly are! A clever girl like you should enjoy herself!"

Laughing hard, the two sat on a bench to take a breather.

They were interrupted with a polite cough.

"Nursemaid Tourakom?"

She rolled her eyes at Willow, who giggled, and turned around, composing herself.

"I am Buriram Tourakom. What do you need?"

"One of the ladies participating in the competition is calling you. She said you'll know what she means when you hear her message."

She sighed.

Whatdid Alanna need _now_? Wasn't fainting in front of the king _enough?_

"I'm going. Guide the Princess to her rooms, please."

The maidservant curtsied, and Buri left her to stare at the two-month girl.

Knock knock.

"Lady Cornelise? It's Buriram."

"Come in, Mistress Tourakom," called the prim voice inside.

**Wow, I wonder if Alanna knows how lady-ish she sounds. **

The door clicked shut, and Buri changed from a mildly pleasant nursemaid to a stubborn, now temporarily cross, 18-year-old.

"_What_ do you want? Wasn't fainting in front of the King enough?"

Alanna sighed.

"I didn't faint because I _wanted_ to," she reasoned.

"I fainted because… because… because… because… uhm… uhm… anyway," she said in a falsely cheerful tone,

"that's not why I called you. Did you know that Jonathan has issued the test? It's about climbing a mountain to fetch something at the top. Do you think I'll be able to do it?"

* * *

"I have to carry _this_ up _that_?" Alanna whispered, wide-eyed. 

"You're joking. I am _not_, _will_ not do it under any circumstances, and… and… and-"

"I _refuse_," she hissed.

Rispah's eyebrows snapped up her forehead and beyond.

"_My lady_, I thought you wished to _revenge_. If you can't take _this_, you might as well drop out now!"

"And I'd hoped that you _wouldn't_ say that," Alanna sighed.

"Well, off you go," Rispah said gruffly.

Alanna fluttered a hand in farewell, and joined the line uphill.

"I'm worried," Rispah moaned.

"Don't yeh worry, lass. She'll do fine. I oughta know," said Coram, crouched behind her.

* * *

_**A/N:** Ahhh… and so it really starts._

_I just wanted to say that there are people who listed the story as an alert that don't review. Please, review, whether it's two sentences or five pages. Just one line from everyone reading it on every chappie, and I shall be forevermore._

_-Vonnie-_


	10. Carthaki EyelashCurlers

_**A/N:** Again, I apologise for the late update. _

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters, settings etc. of the Tamora Pierce stories. I, however, own the plot of this story. Steal and die._

* * *

**Chapter10: Carthaki Eyelash-Curlers**

Lady Uxorea pouted. A lady's life, they'd told her. Full of jewels, laughter and gaiety. A lady's life her foot. If this was the way Tortallan kings treated his suitors, making them climb some stupid mountain, she wanted nothing to do with Tortall. She knew that others thought the same, and felt that it was her duty to speak up on every sweating lady's behalf. She marched up to the front of the line, where the task master and the top servants were walking.

"I demand that I immediately be sent back down _in a litter_, away from this nonsense as is my right as a noble," she yelled.

Whatever the task may have said to this was drowned by the unmistakable low, ground-trembling grunt of a male boar. Out it charged out of the brush next to her, and barely missed her by an inch. The lady collapsed into a heap of hysteria, and was carried down by a group of straight-faced servants.

"My lord."

Jonathan looked up from his copy of _How to be a Good Father_.

"My lord, Lady Uxorea has been 'liminated 'alfway up the mountain."

"Is that so? Already?"

Jonathan shook his head.

He had not expected one to fail so quickly. But then again, perhaps it was just him. Thayet and Alanna had probably raised his standards.

"Tell me how, won't you?"

The footman grinned.

"Well, Majesty, it seems that my lady was the –forgive me- pamper'd sweet tooth of Ambassador Jakyal o' Scanra. More likely than not he saw this competition as a chance for his poppet."

The King nodded gravely. He had known that most of his contestants were to be hungry money-seekers with the approval of their powerful families.

"So 'tis most understandable that the lady hasn't done no nuthin' with mountains, 'specially not in Scanra!"

The King grinned. It _was_ understandable. Ladies he had courted in his Prince years had had _very_ strong opinions on mountain climbing. And that was one reason why he had chosen mountain climbing. The Future Queen had to be strong-minded and had to be prepared to endure some physical hardships.

"So it's on'y natural that she should find the climb 'ard."

"Anyhoo, the lady wore a pair of those feetkillers-" they both laughed. 'Feetkillers' were rogue slang for noblewomen's pinching slippers.

"-for climbin'. It's a wonder she got 'erself that far. And if that wasn't bad enuff, a boar comes chargin' outta some miserable bush right next to 'er. It's said tha' th' boar heard the lady's loud voice and thought she was a bigger male come to steal 'his mates. 'Twas a close thing, Majesty. The servants were lucky to get it under control afore it 'urt anyone."

The former rogue shook his head pitifully.

"Needless ter say, th' lady was more'n shaken. The poor thing, feetkillers on mountains and boars in th' same day. She 'ad ter be carried down on a litter. Ah, well, at least no-one was hurt. And my lady will have interestin' stories ter tell her grandchildren."

Jonathan laughed. If Alanna had been there, she would have smacked the rudeness right out of him, but as she was (or so he thought) still sulking miserably in her rooms, he could have a good laugh for once.

The last thought that passed through his mind before collapsing into an unruly heap of shaking limbs was poorly understated and puerile considering the circumstances.

_**I bet Thayet would whip me if she could see me now.**_

* * *

Rispah and Coram played with their little boy. 

"Papa! Papa!" the boy shouted, the only word in his vocabulary.

Coram laughed, and tickled the tiny pink being.

* * *

While the three were having a good time, Buri was trying to persuade a particular princess into a feeding bib. 

"Come now, Willow. You like your chocolate duckies, don't you? You can have as many as you want if you'll let me put this pretty bib on you."

Willow turned and placed her small back firmly between her and the insulting pink, frilly item of clothing.

"Willow, look at the duckies, will you? They are sad because they think you don't like them. You have to show them you like them, don't you? They love to see you in the bib."

"C'mon, Willow, don the nice bib and comfort your ducklings. You know you luuuurve them!"

"Put on the bib, Willow."

"Put on the nice pink bib."

"Please put on the nice pink bib?"

"_On! Now!_"

"_You ungrateful little swine! Put it on now and if you don't I'm calling in Auntie Alanna!"_

"_Auntie Alanna! Where are you? Alanna!_"

Breathing hard, she turned and faced her charge.

"Are you going to-"

She stopped.

The bib was on.

* * *

"We are stopping here for the night. When you have pitched camp, gather in that small clearing over there. Troop dismissed." 

The crowd scattered.

"What are these so-called camps? Is it a new hair-dye?"

"It must be. It sounds Tyran. I hope it's a blue. I hear it makes you look slimmer."

Alanna scowled. _Butter-brains_. Now she _devoutly_ hoped that none of them got through.

"Eleanor, have you any experience in this?" she asked. Butter brains or no, she will need to cope with them for now.

"Once. My family was trapped in a storm without our servants."

"Well then, you can help us all."

She pointed at the wooden pegs.

"Aren't those the new eyelash-curlers from Carthak? What are _they_ doing here?" she asked, trying to sound, and look, innocent.

* * *

Two hours and various bruises later, the gabble gathered into the clearing. 

"You will now proceed to preparing your dinner. You may hunt, pick mushrooms, and the like within two miles of this clearing. If you cross that boundary, you will immediately be eliminated. Being 'lost' is not an excuse. If this is what happens, _no search parties will be sent out._"

He paused for the effect.

"Your dinner will be prepared by you and you only. You will not receive, nor give help to others. That means that if you do not have your ingredients, or do not know how to cook, you will not be eating tonight. Furthermore, anyone caught in the act of breaching these rules will immediately be disqualified. Dismissed."

Alanna wandered into the forest, tucking away a smile.

Well, well well. Our King certainly is ambitious. A Queen able to fend for herself, not to mention perfected in the arts of the Tortallan Court?

She had _hoped_ he would be more realistic than this.

**_Nobody will get to the end,_** she thought to herself. **_Nobody except me. And _that's _where he learns to mind his tongue._**

* * *

Review. I don't care if it's two words. _**Just do it.**_

_-Vonnie-_


	11. The Hut

**A.N.:** _Late chapter... yet again._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own the fantasy world of Tortall, nor its characters._

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Hut**

The next morning they were off again, in a flutter of anxiety as the ladies rushed for their things at such short notice.

"I don't see how this is helping to choose a queen," someone grumbled. Alanna shot her a look. "Mind your tongue," she snapped- it was raining, and she wanted a nice hot bath, not stuck in a stupid competition.

The woman shot her a deadly look and walked off. Someone nudged her.

"That was the richest woman in Galla you just offended," whispered a shrewd-looking woman. Alanna rounded on her. "So? Do I care? Do I _look_ like I care?"

The shrew shrinked under her glare. "No, but I thought…" with that she sprinted for the woods. Alanna rolled her eyes and groaned.

This, she thought, was going to be a long, _wet_ morning.

* * *

When she woke, it was not to her wonderfully comfortable bed but to a gloomy room smelling of old linen and moth. She sat up quickly. What was going on? She was supposed to meet the Tortallan King in person. She had been planning to seduce him- bind him in her power with the skills she had. There was a curious creak at the door. In the blink of an eye, she was back between the sheets, pretending to be asleep. It was a man- no, a woman? It was hard to tell in the dim light. The small, hooded shadow came towards her bed and placed a warm hand on her forehead, as if to make sure she was not sick. It (for there was no better word for the strange shape; possibly a dream) muttered something nonsensical, and left silently.

She did not know where she was, but she knew that this was not where she was supposed to be. Tonight, she would make an escape.

* * *

"Still out like a light."

Buri clicked the door behind her. As she found herself a seat, Rispah offered her a small porcelain cup.

"Thank you."

They sipped in silence.

"Jonathan says that they should be back on the morrow."

"So you know what's coming up?"

"Yes."

"Lets get to work, then."

* * *

They marched along in the rain, which had by now thickened to a hearty downpour, soaking them to the skin. Four more had opted out since they had started this grueling journey.

Deep in thought, Alanna accidentally walked into the person in front of her. About to say a rude word, she found that they were at a stream. She also noticed that it was no longer raining. No- she could hear rain on leaves. They had arrived, at last.

The tramp-master stood on a tree stump at the centre of the clearing. He cleared his throat of phlegm before speaking, so painfully audible that the group had to cover their mouths with whatever they had in their hands.

"Ladies, this is the place where you will undergo your trial. As I call your names, each person will join me in the hut," he paused.

Suddenly a gloomy hut strangled with dark ivy appeared behind him. The crowd began to shift uneasily.

With a satisfied nod, he finished: "-for their trial."

Worried whispers began to circulate within the crowd. The idea of a common-born man with a noblewoman in this unknown hut mounted up to too much trouble.

While the herd was building itself to the verge of panic, the master had produced a list of names.

"Linda of Redhorn Valley," he called.

Everyone fell silent, and a swarthy, vixen-like woman walked up with a sly, confident smile crossing her lips. She clung to his arm and purred something inaudible into his ear.

Five minutes later, a stony-faced woman staggered out. She walked as if her soul had been sucked out and nothing was inside. Her friends ran to support her. The next woman came out in tears. Everyone asked what had happened, but she would just shake her head and sob her heart out.

Next, the lady thought to be a black enchantress came out with literally bats in her ears. A lady sucking on a raw fist stomped out. There was one who would refuse to move from under a tree. Then another laughing out loud with joy. And lastly, one who had to be carried outside, because she had fainted. But whatever awaited her in there, Alanna was not afraid- a King's Champion could not proclaim defeat at a simple task. So when her name was called, she went in with square shoulders and a confident shine in her eyes.

Cosy.

The word described the place perfectly.

Crude, yes, but it was also most definitely cosy.

Especially the Saren-woven rug on the dirt floor. The crude monkey-puzzle table standing on it. Set carefully on its top, a tea set for two. Wondering if the hut magically set the table for each contestant, her eyes found the stumpy man sitting across her, and thought of how much he reminded her of a particular, gnarled tree stump back home. He looked very comfortable in a brown homespun tunic. He gestured at the seat opposite. She sat. He started talking.

'From this moment, whatever happens here will stay here.'

This simple sentence reminded her that this was serious business.

He handed her a piece of paper.

'There have been many who have sat down at this table, all with their own sorrowful challenges to battle. Yours is the hardest.'

He nodded. She opened it, her smile nevertheless defiant. Her eyes immediately found four words on the parchment, which are written in a bold, decisive hand:

'YOU HAVE BEEN DISQUALIFIED.'

She blinked. Suddenly, five sneezes hit her in rapid succession. Wiping her nose on a napkin, she smiled. This was _their_ doing. With a polite nod (forgetting that she was supposed to _curtsy_ to the representative of the King), she waltzed out the dank door, into the sun.

* * *

In no time were they back at the palace. The place was buzzing with talk of what had happened at the Hut in the Mountain. Alanna took her time in going to find Rispah and Buri. She wasn't worried. This note was probably their idea of a joke. They'd explain after a few drinks.

After a nice, long bath, she got into Lady Cornelise's nightgown and settled into an armchair beside the fire to read. A ginger cat with fine whiskers came to nestle around her feet- presumably a palace rat-catcher.

Time passed. The fire was comfortingly warm- Alanna's eyes grew heavier and heavier as the candles marked the passing hours.

She was awaken by soft curses and the sound of the door handle rattling as someone tried to force it open, which she kept locked under a powerful spell. Wondering what sort of fool was stupid enough to break into the heiress's rooms, she quietly stood, startling the cat at her feet (who meowed her displeasure and curled up back to sleep). Pulling a decorative sword from the wall, Alanna moved as silently as she could to the door. With the right incantations murmered, she jerked the door open. She flinched. Whatever she had been expecting, this was not it.

It was her double.

* * *

**A.N.:** _Don't forget that button down there._


End file.
